It's a Long, Long Way to Fall
by hanniworks
Summary: Fate was either very optimistic or had a very sick sense of humor when it decided to intertwine the lives of Hermione Granger and Severus Snape. Is is easy to manipulate fate, or is it unescapable, inevitable, no matter how hard you try to decieve it?
1. Prologue

[B]Author's Note:[/B] I do not, in any way, claim to own anything of JK Rowling's. No copyright infringement intended.

_[I][CENTER]Tell her not to go._

_I ain't holding on no more_

_Tell her something in my mind_

_Freezes up from time to time_

_Tell her not to cry.[/I][/CENTER]_

[I]_Tell Her This[/I]_, Del Amitri

**Prologue**

She mumbled something indistinct. He strained his ears to hear her and grew frustrated when he couldn't make out exactly what she was saying.

"Speak up, Granger!"

A slight flush began to creep up in her twenty-two year old cheeks as she blurted, "I'mpregnant!"

Still unable to understand her, his eyes widened. "Slow down and speak clearly. I haven't got all day!"

"I'm pregnant."

He froze mid-word. He set down his quill and looked up in her brown eyes, his black ones dilating by the second. "What?"

"You heard me."

"No. That's not possible. It…no."

Hermione Granger looked into her former professor's pale face. "I don't have a sick sense of humor, Severus. This is for real."

He stood up, his hands still on the desk. "But…we used a contraceptive. Didn't we?"

"We were under the influence of alcohol. Who knows what actually happened?" Hermione stated.

Severus Snape began to pace back and forth behind his desk. He clenched and unclenched his hands, and there was a hint of panic in his voice when he demanded, "Are you sure it's mine?"

"Of course. The only other time I've…you know…was far too long ago to be three months into a pregnancy," Hermione replied.

He looked up at her. She was right, as much as he didn't want to admit it. Harry and Ginny Potter's wedding had been three months and four days ago.

"What are we going to do?" Hermione asked, regaining strength in her voice, now that she had told him. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, she added, "Well, I should ask, what are you going to do? I'm keeping this baby. It's your decision whether or not you want to be more of a father than you already have been."

He looked at her, speechless. He was having a baby, with a girl who could be his daughter. Hell, he should be more worried about the friends of the impregnated girl. The age difference was the least of his worries. He held his head and sighed deeply. "Why aren't _you_ panicking? Isn't that an irritating habit of yours?"

"Believe me, I was a wreck last night. I came to terms with it," Hermione responded calmly.

"It might take me a little bit longer to come to terms with it than it did you," Severus snapped.

"I wasn't accusing you of anything! I just thought you should know, since, you know, you're going to be a father, sometime within the next six months!" Hermione yelled.

"And whose fault is that?!" He snapped his head to face her and his eyes narrowed and focused on hers.

"Oh no, you are NOT going to play the blame game with me, Severus Snape! We are equally guilty, and you know it! I was a little intoxicated, and you weren't exactly sober yourself! It's not as if you pushed me away, either!" Hermione stepped up into his face.

"My purpose in telling you this is to give you a chance to have an active role in your child's life! Not to tell you exactly where you went wrong! Clearly, you don't want anything to do with me or your child. I'm done here."

Hermione turned on her heel and Apparated away, just as he was moving to tell her to stop. He let out a frustrated grunt and slumped down in his chair. What a mistake he had made, letting his guard down around that girl for one second.

**[B]A/N: Hi, all! So this is my first Hermione/Severus fic. Please don't hate me! I'm planning to take this nice and slow, so as to keep them in character. It's obviously AU, just a bit. =) A nice review would be helpful and motivating. [/B]**


	2. Chapter One

**A/N: No copyright infringement intended. I do not own anything you recognize. **

_Wake me up inside. _

_Call my name and save me from the dark._

_Bid my blood to run._

_Before I come undone._

_Save me from the nothing I've become._

_Bring Me To Life,_ Evanescence

**Chapter One**

**Three Years Earlier…**

She jerked up, throwing the bed sheets from the small mattress and grabbing her wand. Hermione Granger took a look around her, and relaxed when she realized all Harry had done was put his hand on her shoulder to wake her. She looked at her best friend and let out a deep breath. "Sorry. I guess it's just a habit, now," she said apologetically.

"Don't worry. I actually hexed George when he woke me up," he smiled weakly.

Hermione rubbed her cheek absentmindedly and let out a small laugh. "I suppose we'll have to work on that reflex. Thirty days to break a habit."

"I suppose so," Harry replied.

A distant voice came from down the staircase. "Oi! Harry!"

Hermione looked puzzled. "Oh, since I came up here in the first place, they need some extra help in the Hospital Wing. Actually, we've relocated to the Great Hall. It's much bigger. Anyway, they've got tons of helpless blokes like me and Ron doing the minor stuff, but they need people for the big things."

Hermione stood up and pulled on a pair of jeans. She and Harry were beyond averting their eyes at one's underwear. "Tell them I'll be right there," she said hurriedly.

-------------

Hermione found herself among rows upon rows of wounded and dead people. She closed her eyes tightly, half-wishing that this was all a dream, that none of this had happened. When she reopened them, she found herself looking into the tired eyes of Madam Pomfrey. "I was told you needed help for the major wounds?"

Madam Pomfrey breathed a sigh of relief and placed a hand on Hermione's forearm. "Oh, thank you! Let me help you with our system, here. There are some that are sorting out the living and the dead, and they bring the living to this side of the Hall. More towards the staff table are the ones in critical condition. Go find a patient and do the best you can, dear. Oh, thank you for your help!"

The Healer bustled off to assist Luna with a vat of some unknown potion, and Hermione started walking towards the end of the hall. She immediately busied herself in healing a nasty gash across Blaise Zabini's throat.

----------

She spent nearly all day healing. And when everyone was tucked in, she collapsed on the floor beside an empty bed, exhausted. Ron walked over and sat beside her. They sat in silence for a moment before Hermione said, "You know. I think I'm going to take the night watch, too."

Ron looked at her, puzzled. "You have to be tired, Hermione. Are you—"

"I'm sure, Ron. I just feel like I need to help out as much as I can."

She turned to him and smiled, and he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm off to bed, then," he said. "Be sure to get some sleep sometime," he said as he got to his feet.

"I will."

Ron walked towards the Grand Staircase and disappeared out of sight. Hermione looked up at the familiar Hall ceiling. It was covered in beautiful stars, an image of outer space. Everything was much quieter, now that mostly everyone was gone. She pushed herself to her feet and started wandering, occasionally getting a glass of water for an ailing person.

She didn't know why, but she found herself being drawn to the lifeless corpses on the right side of the hall. She walked up and down the rows. Oh, how peaceful they looked. Fred Weasley had a smirk still etched on his face, even in death. The light of the stars reflected on the pallor of his skin. Hermione remembered Harry telling her that there most definitely was a Heaven, and found herself imagining Fred having a good laugh with the Marauders about George's missing ear joke. She smiled as she walked, her eyes grazing over the lidded eyes of the dead.

She came to a total stop at the feet of her former Potions Master, Severus Snape. His hands, like everyone else's, were folded primly over his chest. It seemed unnatural to Hermione. He had never carried himself like that in life, why should he in death? She sat on her knees at his feet He had kept his secret so perfectly well. Her respect for him had exponentially increased since his death. What a shame; he could never have been a human being for the rest of the world to see. Only Dumbledore. _Why would you want to hide that part of you, Professor? The part of you that made you human? _

She had always known that there had to be some reason for him to be the way he was. How could there not be? No human being, no matter what Ron said, could be born as cynical as he was. She could see it in his eyes, she could tell that he had been through much more than the rest of the world could tell. And, logically, it made sense to trust him. Dumbledore _never_ displayed a bad judge of character, but clearly, he did. Whenever Snape had been ruthless in class, or needlessly unfair, Hermione always thought back to her pity for him. How could you not pity someone in such a wreck as he was?

Even during the war, when Hermione thought Snape had betrayed them, she felt sorry for him. Sorry that he had no where else to turn. And when Harry had revealed that Snape had been in love with his mother, it all came crashing down on Hermione, how much it all made sense. Why was he unfair to Harry? Because every time he looked at him, he saw James Potter with Lily's eyes. He saw what _should_ have been his child.

Hermione knees were drawn up to her chest at this point, and she found it unbearable to see Severus Snape's hands clasped so tightly together. She reached forward and peeled them apart and placed them at his side, one by one. Just as she laid the left arm down by his side, his right hand reached across and grabbed her wrist and twisted it away in one swift motion.

Hermione shrieked and scuttled backwards. She ignored the searing pain in her wrist as Severus Snape—who was _dead_—twitched his fingers. She crawled over to the side of his head and watched as his eyes opened. She held her hand up to her mouth as he sat up and looked around, in that same, masculine manner he always carried himself in. She sat back as far away as she could from him as he looked into her eyes.

"P-P-Professor?" She whispered.

He looked just as surprised as she did. "Miss Granger? Where am I?" He demanded loudly.

"You're in the Great Hall. At Hogwarts," she replied.

He got to his feet, and swayed a little bit. He put his hand to his head, but saw the look on Hermione's concerned (yet terrified) face, and scolded himself internally for allowing her to see his moment of weakness. He attempted to walk and staggered a bit, as if he were a deer learning to walk. His chest heaved as he coughed blood onto the ground.

"Professor…I'm going to ask you to lie down," Hermione said loudly, finally getting over the shock of seeing someone come back to life.

"Nonsense. I'm perfectly healthy," he snapped back, still not looking at her.

"Sir, you were _dead_ for about two days. As a temporary Healer, I am telling you to lie down in an available bed," Hermione ordered.

Severus Snape rounded on her incredulously. "I will _not_ lie down, Miss Granger. It is _not_ your place to tell me when I can and cannot walk around. I do not have to answer to you, and I am perfectly able to tell for myself when—"

He was cut off by her Stunning spell. "_Wingardium Leviosa," _she muttered, and directed the limp form of Severus Snape to the bed she and Ron had exchanged earlier. Then, she ran off to find Madam Pomfrey, or anyone else that might have a _clue_ as to what was going on.

**A/N: So, a bit of a mystery going on! Hm….**

**A review would be nice =) **


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: I do not own anything you recognize. JKR does. =)**

**So, here's chapter two! I would love to thank my loverly reviewers. =) susu: Who says the prologue was the end? *winkwink* XD babajaga41: Thank you so very much! **

In the arms of the angel,

fly away from here,

In this dark, cold

hotel room.

And the endlessness

that you fear.

You are pulled from

the wreckage

Of your silent reverie.

_Angel,_ Sarah McLachlan

**Chapter Two**

"Tell me again, Hermione, what happened?"

"I was just walking by and his hands looked strange all folded up like they were, and so I unfolded them and he just grabbed my wrist, twisted it, and got up.," Hermione repeated, exasperated. Her story wasn't going to change no matter how many times she told it.

Madam Pomfrey regarded her for a moment, then flitted back to Snape, who was still unconscious, and began to perform another test. "This is a total mystery to me," she said in her low voice. "He seems to have just picked up where he left off. His body systems are slowly unfreezing, and his bone marrow seems to be reproducing blood cells again. His wounds are even getting worse, and risking infection."

Hermione looked at Professor McGonagall, who was just as perplexed as she and Madam Pomfrey were. "I can't heal them until I finish the tests, however, but the tests will be short-lived. He needs care, immediately."

"Please see to it, Poppy. The sooner he is healed, the more questions we can ask."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Hermione, would you be able to take care of him? There are many more patients who need me, here, and he needs constant supervision," she asked.

"Of course," Hermione replied.

"Thank you, dear. I appreciate it." Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Now, there is a store of antivenin in the back closet beside my desk. Have him drink the whole thing. He will be especially sick after he drinks this. Then you will need to—"

:"Heal his wounds?" Hermione asked pointedly. "I can do this, Madam Pomfrey. Go take care of everyone else. He'll be fine."

The plump healer nodded, turned on her heel, and walked away, leaving Hermione with Snape.

Hermione quickly retrieved the antivenin from the stores of Madam Pomfrey and returned to her former professor's side. She pulled her wand out of her back pocket and whispered, "_Ennervate." _

Snape stirred, and Hermione waited patiently until he had taken in his surroundings. He recognized her almost immediately, and attempted to sit up, only causing himself to cough uncontrollably. "Professor, lie back down," Hermione said, putting slight pressure on his left shoulder. He collapsed quickly, still coughing. Hermione swore she saw some blood splatter in little specks. "Drink this. It's antivenin." She proffered the vial in her pale hand. He considered her for a moment, then took the vial, tilted his head slightly, and drank its contents in one mouthful. He then relaxed his neck and fell back on the pillow. "Professor, I should warn you, Madam Pomfrey said that the antivenin would make you sick."

He met her eyes. "What happened to me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked at him, puzzled, as she set the empty vial down beside her. "Well, sir, you—"

"Died, yes I know that, Miss Granger, what happened after?" He snapped impatiently.

Hermione froze. "I was walking by you, and I brushed your leg, and you twitched, so I touched your wrist to see what was going on and you woke up," she lied, not wanting him to know what had actually happened. How mortifying that would have been.

"So how did I end up here?" He demanded.

"Well, you wouldn't listen to reason when I told you to lie down, so I, er, stunned you," Hermione cringed, expecting his anger. "Then I Levitated you to this bed, found Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall, and they placed you in my care."

They sat in silence as Snape contemplated her words. After a minute or so, Hermione spoke. "I'm sorry I had to Stun you, sir, but you were irrational."

He nodded, probably accepting her apology, but stared at the ceiling still. Hermione shrugged to herself. "Tilt your head to the side," she ordered softly. He complied, and bared his neck with the puncture wounds for her to see. There were six holes all together, grouped in twos. For such small, precise holes, they were producing a lot of blood. She raised her wand and preformed a spell, and the holes closed up on themselves, leaving slight scars and discolored skin where they once were.

Snape glanced at her right arm, his eyes observing her from the tip of the wand down her forearm. "Did I do that, Miss Granger?"

Hermione looked at her arm quickly; he had snapped it quite easily (he was stronger than he looked), and Madam Pomfrey had healed it in a second, but it was still very swollen, and a large hand-shaped bruise was beginning to form. "Oh, this? Yes, but, it's fine. Madam Pomfrey healed it, no problem."

He looked her in the eye, and started. "I apologize, I don't really know—"

"Don't worry about it, sir," Hermione said, absentmindedly as she healed a particularly nasty cut on his arm.

He straightened himself out on his pillow and allowed her to continue her work. An hour later, she was finished. She stepped back and admired her handiwork momentarily. Her patient had been darting in and out of consciousness for a long time. She looked on at him sadly, imagining his pain. Soon, he'd have to face people, and she could only imagine how humiliating that would be; he had wanted to keep his secret about Lily for a reason, and now that everyone knew because of Harry (not that it was Harry's fault; he thought Snape was dead), they would never let it rest. She almost _pitied _him for being _alive._

_I might as well wash off all the dried blood before he starts to get sick,_ Hermione thought to herself. She bent over and picked up a wash bin from underneath his bed. She muttered a charm, and water streamed out of her wand. She grabbed a cloth and started washing down the blood on his skin. The moment the cool water touched his skin, he jerked awake and grabbed Hermione's tender wrist. Hermione gasped quietly and jumped back as he let go. "That's the second time in twelve hours," Hermione stated with a small laugh. As he opened his mouth, probably to utter some form of weak apology, she said, "Don't worry about it. I nearly hexed Harry when he woke me up this morning."

He flinched at the mention of Harry's name. Hermione looked down at her feet, and ignored his slight. She dipped the cloth in the water once again and asked him to turn his head so she could get his neck. "Here, let me—"

"No. I am perfectly capable of doing it myself," he snapped, his hand closing around the cloth she was using. However, she did not let go.

"With all _due_ respect, sir, I think I should—" Hermione started.

"You have plenty other people in worse conditions to take care of, Miss Granger," he stated impatiently.

Hermione, however, wasn't swayed that easily. "But I was assigned to _you._ So, if you _don't _mind…" She jerked the cloth in her direction.

He pulled the cloth in his direction. "Miss Granger, I don't think you understand. I don't _want_ your help.," he said, his voice rising.

"Well, too bad, _sir, _because you're getting my help, whether you like it or not!" Hermione hissed.

Just as he opened his mouth to retort, probably very loudly, his chest heaved and he retched over the opposite side of the bed. "And _that, _sir, is why. Now you're going to have to swallow your pride for about two weeks, and let other people help you." Hermione pulled the cloth out of his hand with a strange satisfaction in being proved right.

He pulled himself up, swore loudly, and glared at her. His normally pale skin was sallow, save a small section of his cheeks, flushed with anger. He lay back down in the bed and stiffened slightly when Hermione felt his forehead for a fever. He breathed out loudly when she touched the cool washcloth to his forehead. Then, she bent over and siphoned away the puddle of sick next to the bed with her wand. He glowered at her the entire time. It was going to be a _long_ two weeks.

------

After a long night of sickness and bickering, Hermione and Severus were exhausted. Hermione handed him a vial of sleeping draught. "Try to keep it down, this time, okay?" She said pointedly.

He shook his head and looked up, as if praying for mercy. He drank, and soon found himself being consumed by sleep.

Hermione moaned with exhaustion and sat down in the chair beside his bed. She had a massive headache, and was not looking forward to explaining everything to everyone during the day. She had only told McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey for a reason: she didn't want to be answering questions all day, and she could almost certainly say that Snape wanted the same courtesy.

She shook her head and put her head in her hands. Snape was being so difficult, and it's not like he could do it by himself, otherwise she would let him. She looked up, to see Madam Pomfrey walking towards her. "How is he?" She asked as she felt his neck for a pulse.

"He's fine. Seems to be getting better. Do you have any idea as to what happened?" Hermione asked. "I thought you couldn't bring a person back from the dead?"

'That's what I thought, Miss Granger. In fact, my only conclusion is that he wasn't dead in the first place. I believe something froze his systems before he "died", that fooled the people doing the checks on the dead and living," Madam Pomfrey stated. "Whatever it is, it seems to have done some good."

Hermione nodded. "I'm going to go down to the kitchens. Get something to drink. I'll be back soon. I gave him a sleeping potion that should last for ten hours at least."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and returned to her work. Hermione exited the Great Hall. As she was climbing the stairs, she ran into Harry. "Hermione? Were you up all night down there?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes, Harry, there's something you should—"

"I'll go pick up your shift. You've been up for twenty-four hours!"

"No, Harry, I need to tell you something," Hermione followed him urgently as he walked down the stairs. "I've got it covered, I'm going to go get something to wake me up, and I'll be right back there."

"You have to be exhausted. Please, let me help you out. I feel like I need to do something," he said as he opened the door into the Great Hall. He walked down the rows of patients. Many of the dead had disappeared during the night, probably returned to their families. "Hermione, how much did you do—"

He stopped short, as the feet of Severus Snape's sleeping form. "Hermione—is he, er, breathing?" He stood there in shock.

Hermione sighed and nodded. Harry was still in shock. "What? I mean…how? When did he—?" He lost his train of thought and stared dumbfounded.

"I don't know. He woke up last night when I was taking a walk through the Hall. Madam Pomfrey placed him in my care," Hermione explained.

"What happened to him?" Harry asked.

"We don't know what caused it, but we believe something froze his body systems, and for whatever reason they unfroze last night. He picked up where he left off, snake poisoning, bleeding and all."

Harry stared at his old Potions master. "You say he's in your care? Why?"

"I don't know that either. Madam Pomfrey said he needed constant supervision, and since his injuries were pretty much straightforward, since he wasn't cursed or anything, she said I could handle him while she worked on the others," Hermione sighed. She knew she had a lot of explaining to do over the next week.

"How is he now?" Harry asked, still not looking at Hermione, astonished.

"He's healed, but now he's just suffering from the aftereffects of the antivenin. He is back to the same old Snape, again, believe me," Hermione said, her voice dripping with disdain.

Snape rolled over on his side, and as soon as he did, Hermione saw a dark red spot, slowly seeping through his clothing. "Damn. That one was particularly nasty, I had a tough time healing it in the first place. Must've reopened."

She lifted his shirt, and muttered a few spells over the deep cut in his back. "Harry, could you hand me some gauze?"

He nodded and walked over to the supply table three beds away, and returned with the material. "Thank you," she said absentmindedly as she took it from his outstretched hand and wrapped it around his midsection. Harry watched her delicate hands work meticulously and carefully.

"Hermione, you look worn out. I can watch him for awhile if you want. He's only sleeping. I'll get Ron to help me."

"No, Harry. I don't think he'll want to see you that much once he wakes up. If he has a problem with me washing the blood off his neck, I'm sure he'll have a heart attack if he sees you standing there. He's too stubborn, and has too much pride," Hermione stated, rolling her eyes in the direction of the sleeping Potions Master.

"Not unlike someone else I know," Harry said, a small smile on his face.

"Oh, shut up. Listen, if you want to help, please tell people what happened, but tell them not to come and gawk at him. I don't think that's what he'd want, and I think he deserves as much," Hermione explained as she tied off the gauze.

"Sure. I can do that," Harry replied, understanding. He turned to walk away.

"Oh, and will you get me some coffee while you're at it?" Hermione called after him.

"Hermione, even when we're not in school, you insist on working too hard," Harry laughed quietly. "Two lumps of sugar, right?"

"Yes!" Hermione smiled to herself. Her friends knew her all too well.

**A/N: So, what did you think? I told you I was going to keep it slow. =) However, I don't think I'm going quite slow. I'll speed it along here, pretty soon. Please review! It would make me a better writer. =)**

**--Hanni**


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: I own none of the characters, or anything you do recognize. JK Rowling does. =)**

_And the tears come streaming down your face._

_When you leave something you can't replace._

_When you love someone but it goes to waste._

_Could it be worse?_

_Fix You_, Coldplay

**Chapter Three**

Hermione idly turned a page in the bulky book she was currently absorbed in. The glare from the sun on the white pages stung at her eyes, making them water. She absentmindedly brushed a strand of curly brown hair out of her face and continued to focus on the literature in front of her. Beside her, Severus Snape was also reading a smaller volume, in his small hospital bed. Anyone who may have walked by the pair would have laughed at the amount of concentration with which both were attending their books. Not once did either of them look up to observe what was going on around them.

It had been two weeks, and most people had been properly healed by that point in time, and were able to go home, and all the bodies had been removed from the Hall. Once the number of remaining people had reached twenty, Madam Pomfrey had relocated everyone _back_ to the Hospital Wing. Among them were Neville Longbottom, who had been hit with a curse, which caused uncontrollable bleeding on his chest, Charlie Weasley, who had a large, mean burn on his midsection that bedded him for at _least _another week, and Hannah Abbot, whose leg was broken, but due to a curse, had to heal naturally. Snape, himself, was almost ready to be discharged; he just had to break his fever.

Hermione felt a large, warm hand on her shoulder and marked her page before looking up. It was Ron. She smiled at him and set her book down. "Hi," she said.

"How long are you on duty?" He asked, hopefully.

"Well, for the rest of the day, I suppose," she replied, a little unenthusiastically. But at Ron's look of disappointment, she added eagerly, "I'm free tonight, though. And it won't be much longer, Ron. It's been two weeks. Now, all we're waiting for is his fever to break."

Ron's shoulder's drooped somewhat, but he smiled a bit. "Wanna go to Hogsmeade when you're off-duty?"

"Sure," she replied, sitting up slightly.

He nodded, and gave her a peck on the lips before leaving. Severus rolled his eyes from behind his book. She received daily visits from every single one of her friends, sometimes more than once a day, and the most irritating of all was Weasley, only because his were more frequent than all the others. To be honest, it reminded him of the way that he had acted around Lily, minus the romance, of course.

He glanced back down at his book when Hermione turned back in his direction. She looked at him for a second, before getting up to grab a thermometer from the supply table. It was one of the few Muggle objects that were more accurate than magic. She checked his temperature. "Nintey-nine degrees," she read aloud, her voice impatient.

He looked up at her, dumbfounded. "Are you suggesting that I must stay in this bed for another four tenths of a degree?"

Hermione looked at him, exasperated. "Madam Pomfrey said it was crucial to wait until you maintain a regular body temperature for—"

'Two hours, at least. Yes, I know, you've repeated it _plenty _of times," Snape finished distastefully.

Hermione took her argumentative stance: shoulders back, arms crossed, weight balanced on one foot. "Well, it's not as if I don't want to get out of here, either, Snape. To be honest, I think I want to go _more _than you do!" She had long since given up calling him 'Professor' or 'sir'.

"I highly doubt that, Granger," he spat sordidly. He, too, had dropped the formalities a week ago.

"Oh really? I've missed the funerals of one schoolmate, and one friend very dear to me! I'm up to miss the funerals of Remus and Tonks tomorrow if your arse doesn't heal itself soon!" Hermione started, her voice gradually rising. "I really don't mind being here whatsoever, but don't you _dare _tell me I wouldn't rather be somewhere else!"

He was rather bemused (even if he didn't show it) when she sat down, chest heaving, and picked up her novel again. He stared at her as her eyes moved speedily across the page she was reading, until she felt his gaze. "What?" She demanded.

He flicked his head to the side, indicating 'nothing', as if he were telling a fly to go away. Hermione sighed heavily and returned to her book.

It was remarkable how much she reminded Severus of Lily. Just the way she carried herself, the way she _defended _herself, was enough to have him thinking of Lily. But there would never be a substitute…

He looked up once again to find Harry Potter standing, conversing with her.

"Harry…is Ron okay? I don't know…he seems too cheerful to have just lost a brother…" Hermione trailed off.

Severus stopped reading. A Weasley had died? Why had no one told him this?

"Yeah, I know what you mean. He seems like he's gotten over it, but, there's no way he has. Why? What did he say to you?" Harry asked, concerned.

"He asked me if I wanted to go to Hogsmeade with him later. I mean, I told him I would, obviously, but, I don't know…" Hermione replied cautiously.

"Well, let's just wait it out and see. I mean, he's never lost anyone before, maybe this is how he deals with it. George took it hard, but healthy, I suppose. Ron's just pretending it didn't happen."

Hermione nodded. "I'll see you later," she stated. "This one's about ready. Another four tenths of a degree." Referring to him.

Harry looked at her, puzzled. She grimaced as she said, "And no! The degree _has _to be precise!"

Harry smirked, something Severus would never (as much as he hated to admit it) have had the courage to do. "A little stressed, Hermione?" He sniggered.

And to Severus' surprise, Hermione smiled. "Oh, shut up, Harry. Go do something!"

Harry threw his head back and laughed, and walked away, leaving Hermione shaking her head in mock-shame, smiling. She sat back down in her wooden chair.

"Granger."

Hermione looked up, her eyes prompting him for his question. "Which Weasley?"

Hermione's smile faded almost immediately. "Fred," she said quietly.

"Is that whose funeral you missed?"

"Yes," she replied, twisting her hands.

"I apologize, I—"

"Don't worry about it. I was just angry and impatient. I can always go see him later, anyways," Hermione reassured him.

Just because he didn't care about other people's pain, didn't mean that he didn't understand it. And in this case, maybe he did care. She had sacrificed a lot during those two weeks, and hadn't let someone else care for him when they offered. They had developed a rapport, of sorts, and she knew how uncomfortable he would be with anyone else. _Not_ that he would have minded much, but it took him long enough to accept her help readily and neither of them were sure how long it would take for him to overcome his pride a second time.

Hermione pulled out the thermometer once again. "Come on," she muttered as she checked his temperature. She let out a sigh of relief at its digital screen displayed the results she was hoping for. She looked at him and smiled. "As long as you can keep your damn temperature down for two hours, we'll be out of here by four."

He nodded at her and also let out a reassured breath. The pair resumed reading their selected material.

Two hours later, Severus was sitting over the side of his bed, and Hermione was babbling on and on.

"…I'll have to give your regular examinations, once a week or so, for a month, then monthly exams for six months, and then after that, once a year should be alright. Be sure to—"

"Report any ailments? I think I can handle that, Granger," he said, chagrined that she wouldn't let him go.

Hermione stopped abruptly, and reminded herself that he wasn't _completely_ incompetent. "Okay," she said, simply. "I'll see you next week, then," she smiled. And to her surprise, his face softened, as if that was as close as he was going to give a smile. Hermione figured hell would freeze over before he smiled at her, but she'd take what she got.

"Tuesday at seven?" He asked, having an overwhelming need to plan out his week. He was a structured person, and it almost drove him insane to break his routine. Although, he didn't know how that routine was going to last; things had changed, beyond what was in his control.

"Sure," she replied as she threw a bag over her shoulder, never breaking eye contact. "See you then."

He nodded curtly and both turned on their heels, parting in separate directions.

----------

"Ron, are you okay?"

He looked at her through his blue eyes. They were shiny, almost glossy, with tears. "No," he replied.

Hermione touched his shoulder and pushed her head into a position so that her face was a foot from his. "Tell me," she said, looking directly at him as she set down the tea she had just ordered.

"I just don't know," he said, rubbing at his stinging eyes. "He was my brother. How am I supposed to feel? Should I act like nothing happened? What is the right way to grieve?"

Hermione's eyes widened. "I don't think there is a right way to grieve, Ron. But you _can't _act like nothing happened. It needs to become a part of you, and become an experience that you learn from, just like you learned from every other big event that happened in your life," she said, kindly, as Ron averted his eyes at his drink. "There's no shame in showing how it's affected you. He was your _brother. _ You have a _right_ to be heartbroken."

Ron met her eyes. "I just don't know how Harry does it. He's lost damn near everyone."

Hermione nodded gravely. "He has, and he's learned from it. He's learned to use his tragedy to make himself a better person. But notice, he didn't try to pretend that it didn't happen when Sirius died. Or Dumbledore. He never forgot, but he recognized that life goes on."

She reached across the table and covered his hand with her small one. A glistening drop of water ran down the side of his cheek, carving a trail around his nose. "I am miserable, and I wish it had never happened. I wish I could have talked to him one last time," he confessed, wiping another tear from the bridge of his nose.

"I think it gets better, Ron. It has to; otherwise, what are people like Harry holding on to?" Hermione pulled Ron to his feet and wrapped her arms around his chest. He buried his head in her hair and held her close to him, never wanting to let go.

-----------

The next morning, Hermione had pinned her hair up in a neat bun on top of her head, not unlike Professor McGonagall. She was in dark dress robes and a pair of black heels. A small purse hung from her shoulder, and a small silver bracelet encircled her wrist. She met Harry, Ginny, and Ron in the Great Hall, before they all Apparated to the churchyard where Tonks and Remus were to be buried.

Andromeda stood with little Teddy balancing on her hip, next to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley had a small handkerchief which she constantly used to dab at her eyes.

They all stood by one another as the preacher said meaningless words, words that in no way, gave justice to the memory of Remus and Tonks. Hermione glanced sideways at Ron and Harry. Ron was staring at the epitaph engraved on the tombstone they were standing perpendicularly to, and sharp, crystalline tears were streaming slowly down Harry's face.

She, herself, was crying, and inexplicably, was brought back to her memories of Tonks, when she would spend hours trying to help Hermione with her confusion regarding Ron, make faces at her request. Remus would always recommend wonderful books to Hermione; would always answer her eager questions as honestly as he could. It was wicked, how they were both robbed of life, of their son, of their loved ones for nothing more than a power struggle. Especially Tonks, who was still in her twenties, who had a full life ahead of her, with a newborn son. Hermione shook her head in sadness and anger. And they both had faced death gracefully and with dignity. Could she have done it? Could she have walked to her death? Her hand clumsily reached up and brushed the tears from her cheeks.

She was too absorbed in her thoughts to realize that the minister had finished his sermon, and that people were filing out and Apparating away. It wasn't until Ron pulled at her hand that she realized the two of them were the only ones left. "You know, Ron? I think I'm going to stay here for a bit. I'll see you back at the Burrow."

Ron nodded, understanding. "See you."

Hermione turned around, hearing his _pop_ before kneeling before the headstone.

_If you live fearing death, you do not live. _

It was fitting.

She hung her head, and all of the emotions that she had been holding in for two weeks and two days exploded. Her chest heaved as she sobbed heavily. She cried for the dead, she cried for the living; she cried for everything that had happened, and everything that had yet to happen. She had to keep up her morale for everyone else around her; they looked to her as strength and composure. She couldn't afford to lose control, like this, in front of everyone else.

Death was so overwhelming. It had no shame, and no empathy, and no one was safe from its wrath. She could only _hope_ that Remus and Tonks had moved on to something better, that they had lost everything here to gain more somewhere else. That they hadn't died in vain. Harry had told her that there was something beyond death, but Hermione wondered how much of that had been inside his head.

She held her head in both of her hands as she lamented on her knees, and allowed emotion to overcome her.

**A:N: So this one was a bit tougher to write, for whatever reason. There will be more Hermione/Snape relationship developing in the upcoming chapters, don't worry. =) **

**I would love a review! They will make me a much better writer, if constructive, and will motivate me to write more more more! I will update soon. =)**


	5. Chapter Four

**A/N: I own nothing you recognize. That is JK Rowling's honor. **

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_Forgive, sounds good._

_Forget? I'm not sure I could. _

_They say time heals everything, _

_but I'm still waiting. _

_I'm through with doubt. _

_There's nothing left for me to figure out. _

_I paid the price, and I'll keep paying. _

_Not Ready to Make Nice, _The Dixie Chicks

-----------

**Chapter Four**

Severus Snape didn't understand why he felt compelled to attend the funerals of Lupin and Tonks. Hell, he wasn't even sure what to _do_ at a funeral. The last one he attended was Lily's funeral, and even then he had stood off to the side and did his best to disguise himself, so no one would see him. But he wasn't likely to know too many at the funeral, and he didn't want to be recognized but anyone who did know him. Granger had ensured that no one had harassed him at Hogwarts, but he didn't have the luxury of her fat mouth any more to stop unwanted inquiries.

Just before disapparating to the churchyard, he threw the overlarge hood of his black cloak over his head. He made sure to reappear slightly detached from the rest of the crowd. He guessed that the sermon was maybe midway through by the time he made his way to the back of the crowd.

It was a sunny, cloudless day, almost too warm for the cloak he was wearing, but he was not the only one in heavy robes. Almost all the people around him were in dark, thick dress robes, and were tugging and pulling at their sleeves and awkward locations to make themselves more comfortable.

Severus really had no desire to see what was going on at the front of the crowd, so he stood back, somewhat isolated from the group. Through the backs of the necks, he could see some trademark characteristics of some people in the crowd. He could pick out the Weasleys in a moment's notice because of their hair, and Granger was easily visible because of the way she stood. She was hunched over slightly, as if she still had that damned bag of books slung over her shoulder. And of course, Potter was not too far away from her, standing beside the Weasley girl.

He stared at his feet and listened to the minister, not really taking in his words. His mind wandered to many places, most of them oddly filled with Remus Lupin. It had been unusual when Lupin had apologized to him for the whole stunt Black and Potter had pulled, ten years later. Severus, unlike Hermione, didn't allow himself to drown in his memories, and he selectively paid attention to what the minister was saying in his droning voice.

He looked up as the minister said his final words. "And may they rest in peace." He wondered how many times he had said the same speech at different funerals.

The group of wizards disappeared almost immediately, none paying attention to Severus. Severus remained behind, intending to see the tombstone from a closer distance, until only three of them were left behind. Weasley, Granger, and himself. Weasley and Granger had a short exchange before Weasley Disapparated, leaving the girl by herself.

Severus rolled his eyes, somewhat annoyed that he wasn't going to be able to see the tombstone by himself, and was about to Apparate back to his house in Spinner's End before he heard loud, hollow sobs fill the churchyard. Confused for a moment, he turned to see Hermione Granger on her knees, head in her hands, crying loudly.

He was intrigued. He had seen tears well up in her eyes due to embarrassment, but never to this magnitude. A mingled feeling of curiosity and gratitude towards the girl kept his feet rooted where he stood. He watched silently with glittering eyes as she stifled the noises she was making with her fist. Now, her body seemed as if it was dry heaving, but the tears rolled freely down her face.

Why was she crying so much? It wasn't as if they were her parents, or anyone particularly close to her. Severus didn't understand people who cried for no reason, or seemingly no reason. He understood sadness perfectly well, but not the side-effects. He had only ever cried for Lily, and those were tears of pain and anguish, not pure _sorrow_, like hers. He craned his neck forward to see what she was doing. It seemed as if she were brushing off her knees.

He shifted his weight, and a twig cracked in the silent cemetery, and Granger whipped around. He cursed to himself as she got to her feet more rapidly than he would have guessed she could. She hastily wiped the tears from her cheeks at the sight of him, not wanting him to see her in her current state, even though she knew he had been watching her.

Several leaves clung to her dress and she bent over to brush them off. "Er…" she trailed off, not sure that there was anything she could say that would make this encounter _less_ awkward.

He slowly walked to stand a few feet from her. Close up, he could see her swollen eyes and cheeks. Her irises were shiny, as usual, but her eyebrows were arched in despair.

She spoke first. "Tell me something, Snape."

He remained silent, but tweaked his head slightly to show he comprehended her.

"You died. You and I both know it. There's _nothing_ that could fool our detections. You _were _dead for two days."

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "What is your question, then?"

She turned her head and stared at the glittering marble headstone that stood at the head of their graves for a moment before speaking. "Is there a heaven?" She never took her eyes from the stone.

"Excuse me?" He asked, wondering what would possess her to ask such an abstract question.

"You heard me," she said as she twisted her neck to face him once again. "Is there a Heaven? An afterlife that is better than the ground we're standing on?" She had a determined look in her eye, much like when she was in class, flailing about, trying to answer a question.

"Why do you ask?" He replied suspiciously.

She paused for a moment and looked at her black shoes. "I need to know that everyone that died didn't die in vain. That they didn't give up their lives here to be nothing somewhere else."

He held her gaze for a minute, and she seemed to move her head a bit in anticipation. "Yes, there is," he said tentatively.

A small smile stretched across Hermione's face. "Thank you. That's all I wanted to know. Harry said…well, I didn't know how credible he was."

She turned back to look at the gravestone. Severus followed suit. "This is a beautiful cemetery," she said quietly after quite a few minutes had passed. "I know that's slightly oxymoronic, but it is. The memorial to the Potters…"

She stopped short when she saw the short look of pain on his face, and questioned whether or not she wanted to continue, before acquiring a resolute look in her eye. "Their memorial serves justice to their memory. Have you seen it?"

"No," he replied shortly, not sure he liked the direction the conversation was going in.

"You should," she said, prompting him. "Come on, it's not far from here."

He furrowed his brow. "Hold on a minute, Granger. If you think—"

"With all due respect, it's time that you get some closure on the whole matter, and you need to forgive what happened," Hermione stated blankly. Her eyes were returning to their normal size and shape.

"You are a presumptuous, arrogant—" He started, his voice beginning to rise. How dare she? This was _his_ personal business. His eyes had narrowed to slits now, and his fists were balled.

"Snape, you know I'm right. Once you get over the fact that it's me telling you this…" Hermione trailed off, allowing him to finish her sentence for himself.

"How d—You have _no_ right!" He yelled, his voice carrying throughout the courtyard.

"Well, someone has to tell you! And this was the perfect opportunity to do it! And since no one else has the guts to even _talk_ to you, it's my job!" Hermione yelled just as loudly.

"I don't want _you _to tell me what I'm doing wrong! Especially you! What do you know, girl? You're barely nineteen!" He yelled, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Oh, don't pull the age shit with me! I've seen as much in the past year as most adults have in their lifetime!" Hermione stamped her foot and knotted her arms across her chest.

"You haven't been alive long enough to experience the things I have!" He pointed out, towering over her, trying to intimidate.

But she wasn't swayed like she would have been in school. "No, I haven't experienced it," she hissed quietly. "But at least I can recognize when I'm emotionally broken."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, still glaring at her severely. He loomed over her at least a foot and she still did not cower. _Damn Gryffindor courage, _he thought to himself.

"I'm not giving up on this," Hermione said firmly. "I'll bug you until you agree."

He glared at her even more, not allowing her to get a glimpse of what he was actually thinking. She took a step up into his face, though he was a head taller, and challenged him with her eyes. "Do you think Lily would have wanted you to waste your life away?"

He held her gaze for a moment. _No, _he thought to himself, _but I deserve it. _ He narrowed his eyes, but she could tell he was backing down.

"Where is it?" He snapped.

Hermione tried not to look too pleased with herself as she turned on her heel and led him to the grave of Lily and James Potter. He followed her with unsteady steps, and she could tell that he was considering leaving. "Don't you even think about Apparating, Snape," she said, never turning her head.

_How did she know?_ He shook his head, wondering if she was a Legilimens. No, that wasn't possible. Where would she have learned it? And, as intelligent as she was, he doubted that she could possibly have learned to bypass his defenses without him noticing in such a short amount of time. He made a mental note to find out what she was doing.

Hermione was shocked at herself. Why? Why had she taken it upon herself to help Snape get closure? She hardly knew the man, and in fact, had been dead afraid of him for majority of her life, and she never presumed to know anything about him or his past. _You have no business with him! You are his healthcare provider, and that is all, _she told herself steadfastly. _But, you might as well go through with this, seeing as how you got yourself into this situation, Hermione. _ As she mentally scolded herself, she walked in even measure, and could now see

It was the same as she had remembered it. The white marble headstone seemed to glitter more in the sunlight more than it did on Christmas Eve, and Hermione, as peeved at herself as she was, was happy to see that her Christmas roses were still alive, and that no one had tampered with them. She stopped short and gestured toward the tombstone, her hand in a graceful arc, palm up. He followed with his eyes where she pointed and read the names of Lily and James Potter on the headstone. He then saw the beautiful wreath of roses that were residing at the base of the marker. "Who…?"

"Harry and I came here in December," she said, having no need for him to finish his question. She jerked her head toward the stone, and she noticed that he refused to look at it for longer than a few seconds at a time.

"There's no shame in talking to her—them," she said.

"That's ridiculous," he started. "I don't know what kind of 'closure' you want me to get, Granger, especially from a simple headstone."

"Well, there must have been _something_ you wanted to say to her. You can't have held so large a grudge for a long time and _not_ want to say anything," Hermione said.

He was amazed at her perceptiveness. Perhaps, she had a natural understanding of emotion and human nature, which gave her the ability to know what people were thinking before they said it or acted.

"Yes," he said, faltering.

"Well, then say it. Swallow your pride, and say it."

He looked from her to the headstone. "I don't—"

"I'll leave, if that's what it takes, but please, do this for yourself. It is something to come to terms with." Hermione said, apprehensive. She knew he didn't want her witnessing this intimate moment, if it were to take place, but she probably wanted to leave as much as he wanted her to leave. She would never be able to get over the gaucheness of the situation as it was.

He nodded, and she took it as a respectful dismissal. She gave a small, encouraging smile before Apparating to Grimmauld Place, leaving him alone in the surprisingly bright cemetery.

It took him a moment to register what he was about to do in his mind. He knelt on both knees and placed a large hand on the ridge of the scintillating headstone. A small tear rolled down his cheek before he took a deep breath. "Lily, you were always the only one. I _only _ever saw _you._ But I think—I think it's time for me to let go. You will _always_ be in my heart, but…"

He bowed his head in depressing reverence. He hoped she heard him, and understood him clearly. He stood up, once again, not feeling _free_ as he had hoped, but like a large weight was lifted off his chest. Not that he would ever want to be free of Lily, like she had kept him prisoner all these years, but deep down, he knew his passion that he had reserved for her all these years was unhealthy. 'Free' was the wrong word. Enlightened, perhaps? Yes, enlightened. He supposed his _enlightenment_ would come with time. It was said that time healed everything, after all.

**Author's Notes: Well, here it is, chapter four! Yay for that! I'm so sorry for the lack of update; summer vacation is a real timesuck. I would love to thank my reviewers and anyone else who reads this story faithfully…you are such wonderful motivation for me!**

**So here was a bit more, developing the relationship between them. Like I said, keeping it slow. The next chapter will be Hermione doing her routine checkup on him, a bit more of a developing/filler chapter. I promise, a more exciting underplot is going to develop, so purlease bear with me. =) **

**I would lovelovelove another review. =)**


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